


Du Lässt die Welt um Mich Verblassen

by dahhhmer



Category: Columbine - Fandom, Historical Criminals RPF, True Crime - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahhhmer/pseuds/dahhhmer
Summary: Eric isn't prone to fits of depression like him; Dylan's never seen any evidence of self-harm or self-loathing. Eric's always been angry, yeah, and he's said many times that he wants to die — but whatever is going on right now isn't like him at all.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Du Lässt die Welt um Mich Verblassen

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't feeling great, so I wrote about Dylan comforting Eric to feel better. I dunno, man. Leave me and my emotional support school shooters alone. I tried to keep it as IC as possible, but what do I know lmao
> 
> Unbeta'd, and I wrote most of this on my phone. Titled after Diamant by Rammstein; it translates to _you make the world fade away around me._

**REB DoMiNe** : hey

It's two in the morning, and Dylan knows he shouldn't be awake, but some nights it's harder than others to shut his brain off. The ping from AIM surprises him, though; there shouldn't be anyone he knows awake this late on a school night. The fact that it's Eric surprises him even more. Eric stays up late once in a while on the weekend, sure, but four hours before bowling class?

 **Vo_DK_a** : hey  
**Vo_DK_a** : what are u doing up?

Eric takes several minutes to respond. Finally, he says,

 **REB DoMiNe** : honestly it's so fucking stupid  
**REB DoMiNe** : i don't even know what's wrong

Dylan frowns at his screen. He's not sure how to interpret that.

 **Vo_DK_a** : reb?  
**Vo_DK_a** : you good?

Another pause that lasts several minutes. Dylan's concerned, now. Eric isn't prone to fits of depression like him; Dylan's never seen any evidence of self-harm or self-loathing. Eric's always been angry, yeah, and he's said many times that he wants to die — but whatever is going on right now isn't like him at all.

 **REB DoMiNe** : nevermind it's nothing

Dylan could let it go there.

He thinks about all the times he's wanted to reach out to Eric late at night but restrained himself. He thinks about Eric in the dark of his room, alone, lit only by the glow of his computer screen. He thinks about getting high and making out on Eric's bed last week.

 **Vo_DK_a** : i'm coming over

Dylan logs out of his computer before Eric can protest. He grabs his keys and heads downstairs, but nearly plows into his mother on her way out of the bathroom. She stops and looks at him, startled and concerned.

"I know it's a school night, but one of my friends is having a really rough night — I swear it's an emergency," Dylan blurts immediately. "We're just gonna talk and hopefully go to sleep, I swear. I just need to make sure he's okay. Please trust me."

Sue eyes him for a moment, then sighs. Dylan wonders if she can see the panic in his face. He's never been a great liar; she would know if he wasn't being honest with her. Sue reaches up to cup his cheek, smiling fondly. "He's lucky to have you for a friend," she says. "Alright, just this once. Try not to miss too much school tomorrow. Call me in the morning."

Dylan sags with relief, kissing his mom on the cheek for good measure. "Thanks, Mom, I will. See you tomorrow."

—

When Dylan gets to Eric's house, Eric's sitting on the front step. He looks miserable and cold, though he's wearing his favorite University of Colorado jacket. Dylan parks on the street so Eric's parents can get out of the garage in the morning, then walks up the driveway with one hand in his pocket and the other one carrying a bag — he'd stopped at the gas station on his way over.

"Hey," Eric mutters, eyes cast downward. His voice sounds a little rough; it almost sounds like he's been crying. Dylan can't decide if he's just imagining it or not. "You didn't have to come over. I'm fine."

Dylan, who has known Eric for a long time now, takes this as the closest thing to a thank-you he's going to get. He doesn't acknowledge it, just drops the bag into Eric's lap. "Snacks," is all he says. "Come on, let's go downstairs. It's fuckin' freezing out here."

Eric gets up and turns around to head back into the house. Dylan follows, leaving his shoes with Eric's at the door. Once they reach his bedroom, Eric locks the bedroom door behind them and turns to face Dylan, his own arms wrapped around himself.

It's only then that Dylan realizes Eric is trembling.

"Are you—" Dylan starts, but cuts off when Eric shakes his head fervently. "Okay. Alright." Dylan takes the bag back from Eric gingerly, who relinquishes it without protest, and sets it on the desk. He shrugs off his jacket and sets that aside, too, then steps closer to Eric.

"Please don't punch me," Dylan says, and wraps his arms around Eric's shoulders tightly, pulling him forward into a hug.

Eric goes rigid all over the moment Dylan touches him, and for a few seconds, Dylan's afraid Eric really _is_ going to punch him. But the tension eases out of him slowly, slowly, and then Dylan feels Eric's hands clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. Neither boy speaks; the Harris household is dead quiet around them. All Dylan can hear is his own calm breathing and Eric's slightly more erratic breaths. 

The moment stretches on, and Dylan's not sure how long they stand there like that, but he's not complaining. Eric relaxes into him little by little until he's practically boneless in Dylan's arms, and that's when Dylan nudges him back just a little.

"Hey, why don't we—?" Dylan nods toward the bed. Eric swallows, still avoiding his eyes, and nods. He takes off his jacket, socks, and jeans, which leaves him looking vulnerable in worn boxers and a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt Dylan is actually pretty sure belongs to him. Huh. Dylan doesn't mention the shirt, though; he just strips down similarly before joining Eric in the bed.

"Do you wanna..." Dylan begins. Eric shakes his head and rolls onto his side, facing the wall.

"Can you just." Eric sniffs, then reaches behind him without looking to grab Dylan's arm. "Come here."

Dylan catches on quickly, though he's still rather surprised. He's never seen Eric so upset before, and he wants to know what's wrong, but he also knows Eric will likely never tell him. He'll just have to make his peace with that and do what he can to at least ease whatever thoughts are troubling Eric's mind.

Quietly, Dylan shuffles into place behind Eric, wrapping an arm around his waist. He settles one big hand over Eric's heart, carefully avoiding the divot in the center of his chest; he knows touching it makes Eric uncomfortable.

"Thanks," Eric says after a few more quiet minutes, pressing back against Dylan a little more. Dylan doesn't respond, but he does press his face into Eric's hair in what could almost be a kiss, if one squinted.

It's not long before Eric goes boneless in his arms once more, and Dylan listens in silence as Eric's breathing evens out into the unmistakable pattern of sleep. Only then does he let himself close his own tired eyes, and Dylan finds himself lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of Eric's breathing and the steady pulse of his heart under Dylan's hand.


End file.
